


In My Head, In My Heart

by erinn_bedford



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, the importance of words, this is not very happy, what Benvolio is thinking during the Dungeon scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 21:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinn_bedford/pseuds/erinn_bedford
Summary: "When he looks at her, he sees the moon, and the stars, and a reason worth living. When he looks at her, he sees hope."Against all odds, Rosaline gives Benvolio hope.





	In My Head, In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Last night wrecked me. I have never screamed at my TV like I did last night. I cried when they kissed, and then I could not get this scene out of my mind. Most of this was written at 2 A.M. I hope this does this scene justice. Title is inspired by "7 Hours Ago" by Honeywater, and I highly recommend it if you want some Rosvolio feels. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Any words you recognize are not mine.

Tired.

Most of all Benvolio Montague is tired. There is a limit to what a man can handle in the span of less than 24 hours and he has reached his maximum level.

He had been arrested. Locked up. Beaten. His body is tired. But then, Rosaline shows up.

He wants to hate her, but he can’t. Benvolio is pretty sure nothing could ever make him hate her. Not lying about him kidnapping her. Not ensuring he is going to die, after telling him she wouldn’t let him. Nothing.

She tells him she wants to save him, would do anything to save him. She tells him about Paris and Livia. It’s not her fault. She mentions her sister, and something inside of him breaks. Because he would have done the same thing in her position.

She leaves him, and he has hope, something he dared not believe in in years. He has hope and it’s because of Rosaline Capulet of all people.

When the Prince calls for him, the hope dies. Escalus doesn’t believe him, and if Benvolio where in his place, he would do the same thing. Maybe not the execution part, but trusting the word of one person over the shouts of others was not the smartest move. But then he asks him to lie.

Escalus wants him to lie to Rosaline, to put her thoughts to rest, to make sure she is happy. But he can’t. He cannot control his fate but he can control how he spends his last hours and he will not spend them lying to her.

She trusts him. That trust is the only thing he has left and he will not betray it. Benvolio would do anything to make her happy. He was going to die for her, for protecting her, but he would never lie to her.

The punch is not deserved but he takes. He will not however take another one. He may not deserve much these days, but he will not let Escalus beat him into submission like his Uncle did.

The prince loves Rosaline, that much is clear, but he doesn’t seem to know her.

By noon, he has had enough. Enough of the world, enough of Verona, enough of everything. But God will not let him to rest.

“I have a story to tell you.” His Aunt fakes another round of tears, but he knows her. She despises him more than his Uncle, so he knows her emotions are fake, but the story…

“Poison.” She pauses. “Damiano poisoned my dear brother, your beloved father. All so he could be Lord Montague.” She reaches through the bars to stroke his face, and he is too stunned to stop her. “My dearest nephew. How I wish there was something I could do.” She kisses his forehead and then she’s gone, and he’s certain he can see her smile as she turns away.

He doesn’t want to believe her, because she’s Tessa and she lies about nearly everything, but something in his gut tells him she speaks the truth.

When his Uncle appears, Benvolio is at his last straw. He brings a flask, and his sorrow, the first-time Benvolio feels anything from his uncle but hate. Then his face proves what Tessa had told him. If he had any fight left in him, Benvolio would be a fire, a raging fire, ready to force his uncle to tell the truth, ready to fight for his life, but he is tired.

So tired he is almost ready for death. In death, there would be no more talk of last names or families or rivalries. No more need to please, no more loneliness. He has made his peace with life and he is ready for something else.

A guard coughs, and Benvolio lets his head fall against the wall. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he will see Romeo and Mercutio again. His father, his mother, and –

She’s beautiful.

Benvolio Montague is about to die and Rosaline Capulet is beautiful. He is almost certain she is an apparition, a trick of his mind, the desperation of a dying man.

Because, while he is ready to die, he is not yet ready to say to goodbye to Rosaline Capulet.

“I’ve failed you.”

She is crying, and apologizing and blaming herself and he can’t take it. If he is going to die, he is going to die making sure she is happy.

Because without him, she can be. She can marry the prince, the man she loves, the man who loves her, without worrying about the war threatening to tear apart their cities. He tells her this, pleads with her to not mourn him. He can’t have his last moment with her be ones of sorrow. He needs her to have hope. She had given him hope in his darkest moments. It’s the least he can do.

“Leave me and let me die, Capulet. I’m not what you want. I’m not who you want.” He can’t look at her anymore. It he does, she will figure it out. If he does, he might have to admit it to himself. “I saw you, in the chapel, when he told us we were to be married. I saw you, the two of you.”

He needs her to be happy. Benvolio in not sure the last time he allowed himself to be happy, but when he does think of it, it’s in Mercutio’s laugh, Romeo’s smile, and Rosaline's eyes.

He doesn’t know how she made her way under his skin, through his blood stream and into his heart in such a short amount of time but she is there. If she is happy, if she is safe, he can die leaving nothing behind.

“The prince loves you. And you love him.” The words cut into him, shredding him apart, but it’s true. His feelings for her don’t matter now. They can’t.

“That is who you want.” He practiced saying this, sometime on the way over from where he was caught.

“That is who you love.” He needs her to know that he is her friend, and that there is someone else for her, after he is gone. It’s not exactly what Escalus asked of him, but it is what he can give.

“That is who you trust.”

He loves her. He cannot deny it to himself any longer. The woman standing in front of him is the only person he has left in the world, and he loves her. Because she is good, and kind, and she is his friend. So, he can’t lie to her. But he can’t tell her the full truth either.

Benvolio is not certain when his feelings changed from hate to friendship to love, but he does. He can almost feel Romeo laughing at him. A Montague in love with a Capulet. He knows how these stories end.

She takes a step closer to him, and he has to look away from her again because it is too much. He can smell her, the slight fragrance of roses that follows her around.

She is too close, but nowhere near close enough.

He glances at her lips for a split second, the tiniest of moments, because he wonders. He is a dead man who had hours left to live and he wonders. What her lips would taste like against his. If circumstances were different if she could ever love him too.

“I trust you.”

His entire world shatters.

Trust. It’s a small word, but in this moment, it feels like everything.

The tears come before he can stop them. When he looks at her, he sees the moon, and the stars, and a reason worth living.

When he looks at her, he sees hope.

Her eyes dart to his lips and he must be dreaming now. She loves the Prince. She needs love the Prince. Her eyes though, her eyes tell a different story.

They move at the same time, their lips meeting in the space between the bars of his cell. He is certain it must be a dream now, because he is kissing Rosaline Capulet and it cannot be real.

He’s afraid to open his eyes, for her to not actually be there, for his mind to be playing a trick on him.

She is real, she is here, and she kissed him. He has nothing left to live for. He has nothing left but her. There is a moment, a moment of what it would feel like for them to not be saying goodbye. Her eyes a bright and clear, and this, he thinks, this is what true happiness feels like.

He reaches through the bars and pulls her mouth to his again, pulls her closer, so he can kiss her, so he can feel her.

Benvolio is certain he has never felt anything like it and he knows he never will again.

Her mouth is soft, her hands are twisted in his shirt, and his thumb brushes across her cheek, brushes a tear away. He doesn’t want her to cry for him. He doesn’t want to ever stop kissing her.

The guard opens the door, tearing them apart, tearing her away.

She looks at him again, and he wants to say something to her, anything, but then she is gone.

Benvolio is tired. More than anything he is tired.

But now he can die knowing what it feels like to love Rosaline Capulet, to kiss Rosaline Capulet. 

He can die a man with hope.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over on tumblr @fallinfor-youreyes if you want to come scream or cry or complain with me. Thank you for reading!


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